


Immaturity

by Emptynarration



Series: Porn stuff [4]
Category: Youtube RPF, Youtube egos
Genre: ( no mark just egos ), Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Come as Lube, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Non-Consensual Touching, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Touch-Starved, double jerking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 17:16:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19381213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emptynarration/pseuds/Emptynarration
Summary: PWP - Porn without PlotAuthor always craves control.But he craves human touch so much more.Luckily Wilford finds him in a disco bar.





	Immaturity

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Dick Measuring Competition](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17064719) by [markipwiwer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/markipwiwer/pseuds/markipwiwer). 



> It's very very similar to "Dick Measuring Competition" in terms of settings really, but I was just far too lazy to think about another setting

Author was still... new.

Dark black jeans, a slightly too big black hoodie, and the one-room little cabin he had been made with. It was weird thinking about being _made_. He didn't have any memories of before where he had appeared here, writing away in his journal, directing his character to do his every bidding.  
It was nice, and he craved that control. To hold someone else's life in his hands like that, to be _in control_.

He desperately craved it, and so he wrote, and wrote and wrote. He wrote until his fingers hurt, cramping from clutching his pen. Until ink stained his fingers a deep black, and he could barely read what he had written on his papers.  
They were scattered out all over his desk, the ground, beginning to pile in little heaps of paper around him.

The cabin wasn't pretty. It was dark and drafty, Author was pretty sure there was mold growing in the corners and the walls in general. It was cluttered with some shelves and tools, even a table saw. It also had his desk pressed to a wall, the chair he was sitting in and a second chair, a little table where an old TV sat that didn't work -it only showed static- and an old couch. The couch was dusty and old, but comfortable.

He was faintly aware he wasn't the only one of his kind.

Whatever the fuck “his kind” actually meant.

But, he knew there were others who were... strange, like him. Sharing a face, having weird otherwordly powers. Author considered his powers a gift, however. And he was treating it well, using his gift to write the stories the world was dying to read.  
So, he wrote. He wrote like he was intended to do, writing and writing and writing, until he had enough pages filled to be a full novel. He didn't bother much with it, he used his gift to make them neater and better to read, before writing them off to a publisher.

The world needed to read his books.

It had to.

But the longer he stayed seated there, the more he craved some sort of control. He could write books, could scatter around his papers, stain himself with ink.  
But he knew humans -and he felt pretty human, with all his bodily needs- needed other humans. Socialize. _Touch_.

God he craved touch.

To be touched, feeling lips against his own, feeling them on his skin, sucking possessive marks into his skin. Fingers to wrap around his length, teasing, pleasing.

He groaned, pushing back from his desk. His want made him fantasize, and fantasizing made him horny beyond belief. So he opened his pants to fish out his cock, wrapping his hand around it. Laying his other arm onto the table, he laid his forehead onto it, closing his eyes tightly.

_He could imagine it. Someone else pressing him against the wall, pinning his wrists to the wall. A possessive mouth at his neck, biting and sucking, making him moan -his neck was so sensitive. Wandering hands pulling off his hoodie, nothing underneath. Moving along his sides, nails raking down, leaving red lines behind.  
Digging into his waist, nails almost piercing the skin. Their mouth moving lower, biting into the flesh of Author's chest, until they found his nipple. Biting it, making Author cry out in pleasure, before they sucked, licking over it, tugging and twisting the other with their fingers -all of it making Author whimper._

_They'd move their hands to pull open his jeans, yank them down, Author breathing heavily. They'd smirk, maybe they'd say something **“Dirty fucking whore”** and wrap their fingers around his dick._

Author whimpered slightly, twisting his hand around his cock, breathing heavily as he imagined it all.

_They'd stroke him teasingly slow, rubbing their thumb over the tip, dragging their nails through his slit, making Author gasp and whimper in return._  
_They'd let go, moving over to the couch and beckoning him to follow. Author kicking off his pants, leaving him nude, moving over to them._  
_They'd have him straddle them, kneel on the couch above them. He'd kiss them, and they'd deepen the kiss, hands grabbing Author's ass and squeezing. It'd elicit a moan from Author, bucking his hips closer over them, desperate for friction, for more touches again, **please**._

_They'd laugh at him, **“Pathetic”** and would move a hand to push two of their fingers into Author's mouth. He'd make a startled sound, before being instructed to suck, and he would. Twirling his tongue around the digits, sucking, coating them in spit.  
They'd praise him for it, in a degrading sort of way, before moving their hand back to Author's ass. They'd push their fingers into him, immediately both of them, and Author would cry out in pain, clinging to their shirt as they pushed their fingers into him unrelentingly._

_Author would shake with pain and pleasure alike, tears in his eyes. They wouldn't care, thrusting their fingers into him, demanding soon for him to **“Ride my fingers like the bitch you are”.**  
Author would feel tears slip down his cheeks, but he'd nod, moving to fuck himself on their fingers. He would quickly be dissolving into moans, moving in an uneven rhythm. His cock would be hard and dripping precum, and they'd have mercy on him, wrapping their hand around his dick and slowly stroking, smearing his precum over his length._

Author was panting, his strokes quick as he moved over his cock, smearing precum that had bubbled forth. He was feeling his orgasm approaching, getting him closer to the edge, and he whimpered.

_He'd be sobbing with pleasure, barely able to fuck himself on their fingers, clinging tightly to their shirt as he did. Tears dripping down his cheeks, desperate, the feeling of it all so much and overwhelming. He could feel himself getting closer, and he was sobbing, begging for release **“Please let me come, I'm so fucking close, please please-”** and they would smirk, squeezing his dick in their hand.  
They'd lean in close to his ear, biting into his earlobe and making him sob, before whispering into his ear **“Come”** and he'd fully come undone, breath getting stuck in his throat as he came, movements stuttering and halting as his cum coated their hand._

_They'd make him lick it off, and he'd whimper, disgusted, but doing as told. Their fingers still up inside his ass, thrusting up into him harshly, making him cry out loudly._

Author shuddered as he came into his hand, shakingly taking deep breaths. He had stilled his hand, slowly moving to lean back in his chair, taking deep breaths as he came down from his high.  
With a deep sigh, he grabbed his pen with his clean hand, and wrote himself clean. Tucking himself back into his pants, he rubbed over his face with his hands.

He desperately needed to get someone. Anyone. He was craving another human's touch as much as he craved control over situations and living beings, just general _control_.

Maybe he should go out. Go to a bar, or something. A bar was always a good place to find someone to fuck, right? And it wasn't like he was looking to fuck someone, he wanted to be fucked.  
He didn't know why either, but he enjoyed the thought, the feeling, and _god_ he just craved to have someone touch him and want him, even if only for a night.

He pushed himself up from his chair, grabbing his notebook and pen and pocketing them, before dragging himself out the cabin. Pulling his hood up, he decided walking through the forest to the nearest town would be the best idea -he could use the walk, fresh air surrounding him, making breathing so much nicer than inside his almost damp cabin.  
Maybe some day he'd change it. For now, he couldn't give less of a shit. He was still just a month or two old, maybe even three, and had managed so far pretty well on his own.

So he walked without much care in the world, the sky darkening already, sun setting. Good. He didn't want to spend too much time outside, if he got someone for a night he'd be more than happy. Be alone again by morning, get back to writing. Perhaps he could even sleep a little better for a change, which'd be nice. He barely got any sleep, though probably because he was more focused on writing.

Hands buried deep in his pockets, he soon could see the flashing lights of a bar, sort of disco probably. Grumbling, he pulled out his notebook and pen, stopping his walking to instead write. There was a bouncer, and there was no way Author would get in normally. So, he wrote something quickly, scribbling more than anything.  
He soon had a fake ID in his notebook, and the name on it matching to the VIP list. So Author made his way over to the line, walking past everyone waiting. He got some stares -more like glares, really- and people shouted at him, but he didn't give a shit.

Once at the front of the line and at the VIP entrance, the bouncer looked down at him. Author showed him the ID, and after a minute, the guy muttered something under his breath and let him in.  
It really wasn't that hard to use his gift for his own benefit. He could always argue it was for the sake of his books. If he wasn't in top condition, he couldn't write properly, right?  
Of course.

He made his way to the bar and got onto a stool, laying his notebook down and holding his pen in his hand. He ordered himself some vodka to drink then, sipping on his glass once it was given to him. He largely enjoyed drunken cherries, but he knew they weren't available here sadly.  
Maybe he should make himself some himself some time. He had vodka at home, after all. He needed it more often than not, alone in the woods godknowswhere and never seeing any humans ever.  
He really should go out more, but he honestly didn't give much of a shit either. So what if he was touch-starved beyond belief? Yes he's never seen another person close to him since he was made, but who cared? No one seemed to know about him, though he had the feeling just like how he was aware there were others of his kind, they knew he was existing as well.

“I feel like I should know you, but I don't. Care to change that?”

A voice next to Author spoke, making him frown slightly, before turning to look. Dark brown locks hung into a face like his own, though the other man's was decorated with a disgustingly pink moustache. A pink button up, and yellow pants with it.  
He fit into the disco alright.

“And who the fuck are you?”, Author muttered, taking another sip of his vodka. He didn't care to turn his body to look, he was fine just looking at him with a turned head.  
“Wilford Warfstache, an absolute pleasure.”, Wilford replied with a grin and stuck out his hand at him, but Author only scowled, turning his face away from him to drink from his glass again.  
“Not going to give me your name?”, Wilford asked, with a wiggle of his moustache. Author groaned, rolling his eyes, already annoyed.  
“Author. Now fuck off, will you?”, Author muttered, glaring slightly at Wilford. The pink man shrugged, turning away to leave the bar. He didn't seem very happy, but Author really didn't give a shit.

Author scribbled in his notebook, sipping his vodka. Once his tumblr was empty, he raised a hand for another drink. He got a shot poured, and he tipped it back, shaking his head slightly after at the burn. He leaned over his notebook again then, pen scratching over the paper.  
He didn't notice when someone else walked up to him, leaning against the bar right next to him. He half noticed the elbows from the corners of his eyes, on the bar so close to him, but he could care less. As long as he wasn't bothered.

He may wanted to try and be social, but try was all he really was doing.

“Hello there darling.”, a voice spoke, and Author looked up. It was a woman leaning on the bar next to him, with black hair and a sharp gaze, lips a deep rich colour. Author disliked her already.  
“And what do you want?”, he asked, uncaring how rude he sounded. He was pissed getting interrupted, and he wasn't really interested in a woman at the moment.  
“My, quite a feisty one, aren't you?”, the woman hummed, and she moved, rounding up behind Author instead, making the man turn around to be able to face her still. She moved into his space, leaning into him, making Author lean back in an attempt to get further away from her. Her hands laid onto his thighs, making him uncomfortable. “I like that in a man.”.

Author licked his lips, golden eyes looking at the dark ones of the woman. He wanted to get away. He needed his pen for that, though, and it laid on the bar behind him.  
The woman leaned in further, her lips almost brushing against his, as she moved a hand along his thigh towards his crotch, and Author grew more and more uncomfortable. He couldn't just shove her off without causing an obvious scene -he wouldn't put it past this woman to be dramatic- and he couldn't defend himself without his pen either.

“Get off of me.”, he muttered, glaring at the woman. Just hide how bad he was feeling with anger, just don't get handsy.  
“Playing shy? I didn't take you for someone like that.”, she chuckled, her hand pressing onto his crotch. Author shuddered, incredibly uncomfortable with the touch, even though his body wanted to melt and get more. He was so fucking starved of touches, this was terrible. Maybe that was why he couldn't bring himself to move.

“Darling!”

That drawl could only be Wilford, and Author looked past the woman at the taller man almost desperate. He needed help, as much as he loathed it. And indeed, Wilford was squeezing past the woman and wrapping his arm around Author's neck, and that was enough to make the woman lean back, though not step away.  
“And who would you be?”, she asked Wilford, clearly displeased that someone was interrupting her from having some fun. She did like these kind of guys.  
“His partner.”, Wilford hummed, and stroked his moustache. The woman glared at him, before looking over at Author. He had turned to sit sideways and hold onto Wilford with one hand, face in the direction of the bar and away from the woman, so he could discreetly reach for his notebook and pen.  
The woman seemed to take Author's reaction as confirmation to Wilford's words, and she seemed to almost growl, before she swiftly turned around and walked back to the dancefloor.

Wilford was about to turn and ask Author if he was alright, when suddenly, they were gone.

And suddenly, they weren't.

Author breathed a sigh of relief when he was in his cabin again, sitting at his desk, feeling a lot safer here already. God how pathetic. Letting a woman overpower him like that, making him useless enough he needed _help_.

“Author?”

Wilford's voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked towards the other man. Finally he could properly look at him too. Wilford was tal -definitely taller than him, somehow, or perhaps he was imagining it- and he was thick. He had a very obvious belly and a muffin top, but his arms and legs were pretty thick as well. Author was rather thin, and he wanted to say Wilford's limbs were at least twice as thick as his own.

“Who else?”, Author scoffed, turning to look at his desk again, grabbing his pen. He didn't want to deal with him, while he also _really_ wanted to deal with him. It was weird.  
“So... this your home?”, Wilford asked, questioning, raising an eyebrow. He looked around, Author could hear him walking around slightly.  
“Yeah, and? Never teleported before?”, Author asked, annoyed, gripping his pen. He couldn't focus on writing anything, so he just pretended, tapping his pen against his notebook slightly.  
“Of course, just...”, Wilford trailed off, and shook his head. It didn't really matter. “You're aware I an take care of myself, right?”, Wilford huffed then, setting a hand on his hip and looking at Author.  
“Sure, right.”, Author rolled his eyes, and he listened to Wilford walking over. He put his hand on the table, in his line of sight, and Author looked up.

“You're aware you were the one needing help, right?”.

Author scowled up at Wilford. Yes, he was _very_ aware of that, but he very much did _not_ want to be reminded of that. He wasn't a weakling, he wasn't some pathetic helpless human. But he couldn't help how he liked having Wilford tower over him like this, looking down at him like he was stupid.

“Leave me alone.”, Author scoffed instead, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.  
“You brought me here to leave you alone?”, Wilford raised his brow, leaning back and crossing his arms as well. Author held his gaze, narrowing his eyes, before huffing and turning away. He didn't need this argument and power play.

Wilford was quiet for a moment, before he swiftly turned away and started walking towards the door. “Guess I can leave then, hm? Since you obviously don't want me here.”, he hummed, and Author tensed. He heard Wilford reach for the door, and he turned around quickly.

“Wait! W-wait.”, he bit his lip, but Wilford stopped and turned around, an eyebrow raised in question. “Don't just fucking leave, jesus.”.

“And why not?”, Wilford questioned. He watched Author squirm in his seat, looking away from him from a moment, before facing the desk, and then looking back at Wilford.  
“It's just- fuck you. It's not safe, okay? It's- the forest's.. it's complicated. “, Author had been working on a new story idea, and that involved the forest, and that made it... rather unsafe, unless you knew the safe pathways.  
Wilford stuck his thumbs into the belt loops of his pants, looking at Author for a moment, before nodding lightly. Seemed plausible enough, he supposed.

With a faint popping sound, Wilford disappeared from where he had stood, and Author found himself sitting on Wilford's lap on his couch, straddling the other.

“What the fuck?”, Author exclaimed, but didn't move to get away. Wilford wrapped his arms around his middle, smirking at him.  
“Having a problem?”, he questioned, and Wilford could feel Author shudder beneath him just being touched so lightly. He had noticed that in the bar again.  
“You're fucking gross.”, Author scoffed, crossing his arms, but there was a definite red tint to his cheeks. Just straddling Wilford like this, like he had fantasized earlier today..  
“Me? Gross?!”, Wilford gasped, moving an arm to lay an arm onto his chest, scandalized.  
“You're all fat and shit. So not my type.”, Author said with narrowed eyes. Yeah, not his type. Fat and tall and probably pretty strong.

“So what's your type then?”, Wilford asked, and he watched Author squirm, clearly trying to get out of the situation somehow without revealing himself.  
“Shut the fuck up, asshole.”, he muttered in the end, and Wilford laughed. Both arms wrapped around Author's middle, he pulled the other closer to him, pressing him more against his chest.  
“Not so good with words if you're not writing, hm?”, Wilford asked with a smirk, and Author scoffed. He ground his hips down into Wilford and bit his tongue to hold back the whimper. Wilford smirked and moved his hands to hold Author's hips, helping him grind down against him.

“So that's what you want, huh?”, Wilford chuckled, and pulled Author more towards his knees again, making Author leave a noise of discontent.  
“Don't pull me away then fucker!”, Author grumbled, glaring at Wilford. It made the other laugh again, shaking his head lightly.  
“Fucking asshole.”, Author muttered, and instead his hands reached for Wilford's fly, fumbling with the button before he could yank the pants open, finding Wilford with some. Panties. Well, fine, he didn't give a shit about that. Instead, he got Wilford's cock out, eyes widening slightly.  
Wilford was long, and _thick_. Fuck he was juicy, and Author wondered what it'd feel like to ride that cock. He'd probably feel him in his throat, and fuck if that wasn't turning him on.

“Come on, get yourself out too.”, Wilford said, but Author seemed focused more on what was in front of him. Wilford rolled his eyes and pulled Author's hoodie up, so he could open his pants then. He got Author's dick out of his pants, and he was already half hard. It was flattering in a way, how Author got aroused by him.  
Author, compared to him, was fucking adorably small. It was amazing, and very much amusing to Wilford as well. He could probably envelope most of Author's length in just one hand. So he did just that, and Author gasped, looking up at Wilford.

“What, sensitive?”, Wilford asked with a smirk, squeezing lightly, before he began stroking slightly. Author almost whimpered as Wilford did, bucking his hips forward as he reached for Wilford's cock as well, wrapping his hand around it. God he was thick.  
“Fuck, Wilford.”, Author muttered, looking up at the other. He wrapped his arms around Wilford's neck, and he started to thrust his hips, whimpering as he fucked into Wilford's hand. God he needed someone to touch him, to give him please, and he didn't give a shit by whom now.  
Wilford chuckled, letting Author, and he pulled his dick to be pressed against Author's. Author made a soft sound when he did, and continued bucking his hips, obviously desperate as he did, face gaining a more red colour.

Wilford obviously enjoyed this, twisting his hand and stroking in an amazing rhythm that made Author pant. The pace wasn't incredibly fast, it wasn't wet at all, but Wilford was just doing such a throughout job at jerking them off.

Fuck he craved human touch so much, he already felt his orgasm building. He'd come embarrassingly fast because of how touch starved he was, but he didn't feel it in him to feel bad at all. He wanted to come so badly rather than care about coming before Wilford.  
Wilford didn't seem too bothered, breathing a bit more heavily while Author full out panted, enjoying how the smaller male moved on top of him. Fuck he'd look good on his cock, split in half and screaming his name..

Author cried out when he came, thrusts stuttering, cum coating Wilford's hand. He stroked Author through his orgasm, before pulling away. Looking at his hands, he smirked at Author.  
“Now Author darling.”, Wilford said and used the arm still around Author to pull him flush against his chest, but also slightly up from him so Author was on his knees.  
“I think I deserve some fun as well, no?”, Wilford smirked, and Author shuddered, nodding.  
“You fucking ass.”, he muttered, leaning his head into Wilford's shoulder.  
“I'm going to be fucking _your_ ass.”, Wilford said and grinned, and Author gulped. Wilford was huge, and he had never taken anything that big. He was as good as a virgin, honestly.

“Fucking do it then.”, Author muttered, and Wilford easily poofed Author's pants away. Cum-stained fingers pushed into Wilford's ass -one for now, and Author shuddered. Seeing and hearing no pain from him, Wilford added a second, and Author whimpered softly.  
“Come on, you like it don't you?”, Wilford hummed, grinning, and began scissoring Author open. It didn't take long and Author was shivering and shuddering against Wilford, holding tightly onto his neck.  
Wilford curled his fingers, searching. Author cried out in pleasure when Wilford found his prostate, and he began thrusting his fingers as well as scissoring Author, making the writer begin to moan and gasp.

Author was shaking against Wilford, feeling so good as the other man pumped his fingers into him like that, filling him and stretching him open carefully and thoroughly. It was good, and Wilford clearly had experience, and God Author couldn’t stop the whimpers and moans that escaped him.  
He was trembling slightly, arms tight around Wilford’s neck, holding himself up. He was getting incredibly hot, but he didn’t want to move to get his hoodie off of him either. That meant letting go of Wilford and stopping their movements, and fuck Author didn’t want to stop.

It was no wonder that he whined audibly when Wilford paused and pulled him off his neck with his free hand, pulling at his hoodie.  
“Time to get that off of you darling.”, He hummed, and Author struggled to get it off, desperate to just continue. Fuck, riding Wilford’s fingers was like a dream come true, and God he just wanted his cock deep inside of him, filling him up to his throat.  
Once Author was completely naked, Wilford pulled him into a deep kiss, Author trembling against him as he wrapped his arms back around Wilford’s neck. He had clearly not a lot of experience, at least compared to Wilford, and was more than desperate, making the kiss messy.  
He didn’t find it in himself to care, as Wilford pushed a third finger into him, and Author moaned, holding himself up as Wilford continued working him open. He was quick to add a fourth finger thankfully, and Author distantly noted Wilford was using both hands for it. All he cared about was the pleasure that rocked through him, making him feel so good.

Getting impatient after some more minutes, Author lifted himself more, hands braced on Wilford’s shoulders. It caused the man’s fingers to slip out of him, and Wilford looked up at him.  
“Fuck me already.”, Author commanded, eyes narrowed at Wilford. It made the man laugh lightly, and he held his dick for Author to sink onto.  
“It’s all yours.”, He purred, and Author growled, but obediently lowered himself into the massive cock beneath him. And fuck was it big, already the head stretching him more than Wilford’s fingers had. But, he didn’t care all too much, sinking down.  
It burned, it hurt, and fuck Author felt tears burn in the corner of his eyes, but he wanted this more than anything. Riding Wilford kept him in control -or so he liked to think- and gave him all the human contact he ever wanted.  
“Pace yourself, big boy. We got time.”, Wilford hummed, hands gentle on Author’s hips. Author glared at Wilford in return, and more out of spite than anything, let himself sink down more in a quick fashion. It made him wince, and it hurt a fuckton, but he didn’t give a shit.

Author managed to lower himself completely, and he was shaking, a few droplets of tears dripping down his cheeks. Fuck it hurt, it hurt so fucking much, but Author was so fucking  _full_ , Wilford’s cock hitting all the right spots inside of him, pressing against his prostate. He didn’t even have to move to feel the pleasure course through him, his own dick dripping precum, twitching. He was already feeling close to another orgasm.  
Wilford seemed a lot more well composed, but he was gripping Author’s hips tightly, obviously having to hold back from moving and thrusting up into him.  
“A rarity someone gets all of me in.”, Wilford purred, moving his hands to rub along Author’s sides. It was arousing, having him naked on his lap, while Wilford had decided to stay fully clothed.  
“Shut the fuck up.”, Author muttered, and Wilford tsked, shaking his head.  
“Now that’s no way to speak to the person who’s dick is in your ass.”, He chided, and Author had the decency to at least blush, looking away from Wilford. He wasn’t having that, though, and pulled Author up, just to thrust up into him and let him fall back down fully on him, earning a startled cry of pleasure and perhaps pain from Author.

“Now, be a good boy and fuck yourself, hm?”, Wilford said with a grin and a wiggle of his moustache, and Author glowered at him in return. He did however, keep his hands on Wilford’s shoulders and began moving, first rolling his hips, before he began lifting himself up and sinking down again.  
He was quick to dissolve into a moaning mess as he bounced on Wilford’s lap, fucking himself in a good pace. Wilford helped him move, hands on his ass as he helped lift him up and letting him drop down again.  
Author got especially loud once Wilford starting thrusting into him, and he near screamed as Wilford rammed into his prostate and he came again, his cum staining him and Wilford’s shirt.

Wilford went to stop his thrusting to not hurt Author from overstimulation, but Author glared at him when he didn’t continue and left him weakly bouncing.  
“Fuck me goddammit! I want your gross ass cum in my ass.”, Author exclaimed, fingers digging into Wilford’s shoulders. The other man clearly hadn’t expected that, but he was quick to laugh.  
“Your wish is my command.”, Wilford hummed, and he immediately lifted Author up some and started slamming into him. It made Author scream, the sudden onslaught of stimulation on his frazzled nerves too much, but he clenched tightly around Wilford, pleasure and pain coursing through him as he was pounded into, gasping and moaning brokenly.

More tears dripped from his chin, but Author didn’t give a fuck, he was incredibly full -such a fucking amazing feeling- and he was fucked within an inch of his life as if felt like. He couldn’t take it how good it was, hearing Wilford’s balls slap against his ass, feeling his pants and his fly dig into Author’s skin over and over.  
He couldn’t help but go almost limp, wrapping his arms around Wilford’s neck once more and holding himself close, nearly hiding his face, as Wilford brutally fucked into him, with fast and very deep thrusts.

Author came again, but dry this time, the stimulation on his prostate too fucking much. He tightened around Wilford, gasping through breaths as pleasure hit him again, and after a few more thrusts fucking him through his orgasm, Wilford came as well, filling Author with his cum, making the man near whimper at the hot feeling inside of him.  
“Fuck..”, Author muttered, gasping for breath, desperate to get some air back into his lungs. Wilford laughed, shaking his head lightly in amusement.

“You did great.”, Wilford murmured, and Author huffed. He felt overly sensitive, and he wanted to get off of Wilford even though he also didn't want to.  
Maybe he could just rest for a while.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written Author like this before. Like, only based on the DiF 1 video and not what was seen in DiF 2 with the shirt and how he was like and shit  
> Like, it's really interesting how he sort of changed, and it's just so so different!!  
> I really enjoy it  
> I loved the fic I was inspired by so so much and yeeee  
> I wrote 7 1/2 pages full of this fic in turn lol


End file.
